


cinco de koya

by thunderylee



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF, Kanjani8 (Band), NewS (Band), SS501
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-01
Updated: 2010-05-01
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Five times Koyama wore the pants (and subsequently didn’t keep them on).





	cinco de koya

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

> 1\. Member Love

It’s not Tegoshi; that would be too easy. Likewise, Shige would make too much sense. Yamapi and Ryo, even – Koyama can’t see either one of them being too opposed to sneaking into his bed to wake him up with a birthday blowjob.

But the pleased moan that sounds from around his cock is identical to the one Massu emits when he sucks on sweet dango, and Koyama gets harder and rocks his hips a little at the memory of sticky dango sauce running down Massu’s chin while his tongue rapidly laps between the balls. A lift of his covers shows a similar sight, Massu’s eyes blissfully closed as he licks the plump head, his fingers coiled around the shaft and squeezing lazily to push Koyama just enough past his lips to have him wiggling for more.

“Massu…” Koyama breathes, his voice deep and groggy from sleep, surprising himself with its gruffness. He wants to lean his head back against his pillow, arch his back and push up pointedly into Massu’s mouth, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the younger man with his usually chubby cheeks hollowed and his bangs sticking to his forehead.

Koyama starts to think he’s underestimated Massu, just a little bit. He moans when Massu stops teasing and sucks him properly, his length shining with saliva as Massu bobs up and down with intent. The familiar coil starts in Koyama’s gut and unravels throughout his body, the tips of his fingers and toes tingling with anticipation as his breath gets caught in his throat at the undeniable prelude to orgasm.

Then it _stops_ and Koyama’s nerves don’t know how to react. A pitiful-sounding whine escapes from him as his eyes focus on Massu’s face that is much closer now, somewhat of a smug expression crossing his features as he leans down to press swollen, wet lips to Koyama’s.

Just when Koyama is wondering what he did to deserve this torture, from Massu of all people, he feels Massu’s bare thighs on either side of his waist and his cock naturally gravitates to a well-stretched and lubricated opening that swallows him whole before his mind can catch up with his body. When it does, Koyama’s first thought is Massu’s fingers deep inside himself while sucking off Koyama, the faint moans and harsh puffs of air from his own ministrations, and quickly Koyama is back at the brink like he’d never been interrupted.

Massu rocks back and forth, gradually bouncing and Koyama’s hands latch onto his hips for some semblance of control. He can’t keep his mouth closed, his eyes fighting to watch Massu’s face that begins to contort with each pound of Koyama’s cock inside him. Massu’s body seems to be fighting back and that’s when Koyama feels something slick and hard against his stomach, looks down in time to see Massu’s cock squirt in his own hand, accompanied by a deep groan and muscles that clamp down around Koyama so hard that he can’t help but follow, his world crashing down as the tension disperses from what feels like every nerve in his body.

He lets out an “oof” when Massu’s weight comes crashing down on him as well, then a warmth floods throughout him as he feels Massu’s smile in his collarbone.

“Happy birthday to me~” Koyama sings, his arms lifting to embrace the other.

“That wasn’t even your present,” Massu replies, a hint of humor to his voice. “I actually came in here to tell you breakfast was ready, but your covers were halfway off and you seemed… interested.”

Koyama laughs as the delicious smell wafts from his kitchen. It’s always the ones you least suspect.

> 2\. Kansai Love

“Because we’re both the oldest,” Yoko had said, and at the time it seemed like a good enough reason as any.

Now he can’t be bothered to second guess, as someone who has spent the entire day with one Yokoyama Kimitaka regresses ten years by sunset, and Koyama is too relaxed and unconcerned with anything other than being comfortable to even think about pushing away the elder when he brushes his lips against Koyama’s cheek.

He’s heard how Kanjani8 roll, anyway. And besides, Yoko’s lips are soft and his hand is gentle on Koyama’s jaw, coercing him to turn his head, which Koyama permits and Yoko’s lips feel even better against his own, followed by an eager tongue that ignites the dominating spark inside Koyama because everything about this kiss is pleading for him not to stop here.

Yoko fits neatly between Koyama and the couch, long limbs stretched out on top of him as their bodies line up and something akin to a mewling sounds from the back of Yoko’s throat when hips collide. Fingers slide up into Koyama’s hair and he kisses the man beneath him harder, feeling the other’s arousal growing against his own with each roll of his body. Yoko’s legs fall open submissively, thighs trapping Koyama between them and he’s no longer sure which one of them has the control here.

It’s Yoko who shoves his hands between them, popping buttons and pushing down pants, then lifts them to fist their shirts over their heads and retrieve a tube and a packet from his pocket, but it’s also Yoko who lifts his knees and looks at Koyama pointedly, or as pointedly as one can manage through hooded lids while lounging lazily with his short hair splayed in some kind of wavy halo against the couch pillow.

Then he bites his bottom lip and Koyama loses his mind. His body moves of its own accord and he’s two fingers deep inside Yoko before he realizes it, and only because Yoko squirms a little and Koyama thinks it’s cute. He leans down to kiss him and feels Yoko’s rushed breath against his tongue, the panting that escalates as Koyama fingers him harder, preparing for entry. Yoko’s hands clutch onto his shoulders, his grip a bit shaky and now his noises are impatient, a pointed tug on his wrist leading Koyama to take that last step and replace his fingers with his cock.

Yoko comes alive with each thrust of Koyama inside him, shamelessly crying out nonsensical syllables as he fists himself and lifts his hips in tandem. Koyama’s coherent thought dwindles from all of the above, his head dropping to rest against Yoko’s chest while his arms coil around broad shoulders, his own breath leaving him as he reaches his peak.

It’s over too fast but neither one really cares, laying in a pile of sweaty tangled limbs long after the orgasm-induced numbing wears off. The sunset fades to black and Koyama finds the color choice appropriate as he gives in to the selfish temptation to fall asleep just like this, but only because Yoko’s already snoring.

He hopes they wake up before Ryo gets back, or the angry sun might take away both of their house keys.

> 3\. Senpai Love

He wants to call the other man a creeper, but Koyama’s not exactly undeserving of the name himself with the way that he’s been watching Sho watch Jun. He sees a lot of himself in Arashi’s resident rapper, the nurturing towards his members as well as the protective instinct that comes out whenever one of them is alone.

The fact that Sho’s hand is moving in his pants is something that is unique to Arashi, though.

Koyama is a little fixated, his feet bringing him closer of their own accord until he’s practically breathing down the older man’s neck. Sho doesn’t seem to notice him at first, eyes only for the baby of his group who is practicing dance moves by himself in what he thinks is an empty auditorium.

“Isn’t he amazing?” Sho breathes. His quiet voice breeches the silence between them and makes _Koyama_ jump. “I’m so proud of him.”

Koyama opens his mouth, possibly to ask why Sho isn’t bothered that he’s being watched, but then he closes it as his thoughts are ultimately stolen away by Sho’s groan as he squeezes himself particularly hard. Not even when Koyama’s hands make contact with Sho’s belt does he stir; if anything Sho welcomes the presence behind him and leans back into his embrace.

“You’re amazing too,” Sho mumbles, and it’s flattering and awkward at the same time. He tilts his head, his neck begging to be tasted, and Koyama is drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

Once contact is made, Koyama can’t get enough, pressing his full form against Sho’s back until he feels the sculptured muscles against his chest. He attaches his lips to Sho’s skin, breathing in his spicy cologne as his hands drop to where Sho’s disappears into his own pants. Carefully Koyama loops thin fingers around Sho’s waist and tugs, feeling the protest start to rise in Sho’s throat until he takes over and holds the weight of Sho’s cock in his hand.

Sho makes a noise of approval as he rests his head on Koyama’s shoulder, pointedly pushing up into the promising touch as he reaches back to slip his hands into Koyama’s back pockets. His ass rubs against the growing bulge in Koyama’s pants and Koyama has to fight to keep from bending him over the balcony ledge, concentrating on stroking him firmly and drawing out those deep, encouraging sounds.

His resolve doesn’t last very long and Sho almost jumps when he _growls_ , ripping at both of their belts one-handed and shoving down their pants enough to suffice. If Sho wants him to stop, he better do something soon because Koyama’s focus is on following this through, but stopping doesn’t seem to be an option with the way Sho’s pushing back against him and arching like a cat.

Sho’s elbows rest comfortably on the balcony railing as Koyama applies pressure to the small of his back, his hand dropping to follow the curve of his ass to where he wants to be. He rips open a packet of lube with his teeth and lets most of it spill down between the cheeks, coating his fingers and easing his way inside while Sho bites his lip and doesn’t take his eyes off of Jun.

Koyama drapes his body over Sho’s back as he sheathes himself and pushes in, continuing to pull on Sho’s cock and pressing his face into Sho’s back to muffle his noises. Sho meets him thrust for thrust, muscles seeming to fuck him right back as Koyama gets closer and closer.

He makes it until he feels Sho twitch in his hand, hot liquid dripping over his fingers with just a hitch of breath to ignite Koyama’s own orgasm. It’s intense enough to leave him unbalanced, falling back into one of the seats while Sho just straightens up and fixes his pants.

Even though his post-coital haze, Koyama sees the way Sho continues to look at Jun and already plans to visit Tegoshi at his next dance practice. Koyama has been slacking in his role lately.

> 4\. Girl Love

He may as well be a virgin with the way she feels so foreign, all curves and soft skin and high-pitched moans. She’s incredibly responsive and he loves it, the feeling of her nipples hardening under his touch as he cups her breasts. She pushes back against him and makes a pleased noise when he gasps, his hardness fitting neatly between her legs through their clothes.

Her hair is loose and wild in true Nagasawa Masami style, the fruity smell of her shampoo clogging his senses as he buries his nose in her dark locks. She grabs his arms and pulls him closer, never one for drawing things out, barely making it back to her place after an eventful first date of stolen glances and inappropriate touches (most of which were initiated by her).

“Pi-tan didn’t tell me you were so _easy_ ,” Masami comments, her giggle laced with promise as she sneaks her hand between them to rub the bulge in his pants.

“He wouldn’t know,” Koyama replies, digging his nose through her hair until he reaches her skin, nipping at the back of her neck around to her ear until she threatens to lose her balance in his arms.

Instead, she grabs his wrist and pulls it down pointedly, under her skirt where his fingers tease her panty line. He can feel her getting frustrated and just smiles, kisses behind her ear, and rocks against her with intent. He waits until she least expects it to poke his fingers under the material, nudging her thighs apart with his knees and groaning at how wet she is for him. Her head falls back, her mouth falling open with uncontrollable gasps as he flicks her swollen clit enough to make her tremble before slipping two fingers inside her.

He wonders how long he can do this before she breaks. Koyama has the patience of a saint, even in these non-saint-like situations. Even her stroking him through his pants isn’t enough to make him snap; he’s more focused on _her_ and if anything was going to make him toss propriety aside and fuck her right here against the wall, it would be the way her body tightens around his fingers just like it would his cock.

It surprises him when she comes, moaning his name and shaking while her juices drip down his fingers that work her faster. She chokes on her air and fumbles in her grasp, held up by one of Koyama’s hands on her breast and the other partially inside her, his breath becoming audible against the skin of her bare shoulder.

Her chest heaving, she laughs in the midst of her moans. “He _did_ tell me that you sometimes needed a push to take initiative.”

Koyama scoffs and lets his fingers fall out of her, hiding a smile at the way she whimpers as he reaches into his pocket for a condom. All it takes is the sound of crinkling foil and Masami’s panties hit the floor, her legs wrapping around his waist as she pulls him into her mouth, licking his tongue even as he enters her, hands gripping her ass to hold her steady as he sinks inside her over and over.

They both become overwhelmed by their breaths and Masami ends up sucking on his lip, bouncing with the force of his efforts and choking on her moans while her body massages every inch of Koyama inside her. With the last of his coherent thought, he balances her against the wall one-handed while the other dips between her legs to rub circles on her clit, sending her into a bucking frenzy that Koyama has to struggle to hold onto lest he be knocked away.

This time she screams as she comes, bringing him with her and clinging onto him as they inevitably slump to the floor. She’s still shaking as she leans back, her breath coming out in a light laugh as she looks at him with a satisfied smile.

“If I had known you would be that good, I would have let Pi-tan talk me into going out with you a long time ago.”

Inwardly, Koyama thinks Yamapi would be proud.

> 5\. Korean Love

Despite his studying, Koyama can hardly understand the words that are coming out of the pretty boy’s mouth. He’d gotten his name – Park Jungmin – and not much else, although Koyama didn’t need to understand him to appreciate how he wore a pair of leather pants and danced like there was a pole in front of him.

Jungmin looks up at him through his dark bangs, smirking a little and appearing not at all frustrated by the language barrier. Koyama blinks and he’s being pulled towards the other, lips brushing together lightly enough to leave Koyama burning for more. This is definitely something he can understand, even if Jungmin pulls back and eyes him as he disappears out the back door.

Of course Koyama follows him. They’re outside in the alley somewhere in downtown Seoul, behind some club Ryo and Jin had dragged him to, although he can’t really complain much because he’s been begging them to take him on one of their Korea excursions ever since he’d started learning the language. He spent all day showing off for them, asking for directions and translating signs and menus.

Now he can’t even remember how to say “where are we going?” It doesn’t really matter anyway because he’d probably follow Jungmin anywhere, fueled by the saucy looks the Korean man throws over his shoulder as he leads Koyama across the parking lot and down the street where there’s a park. It’s completely empty due to the late hour and Jungmin takes a seat on the swing, kicking up dust as he pushes himself back and swings lazily.

Uncertainly Koyama approaches the swingset, sits on the other swing and leans back, looking upside-down at the dark night sky and forgetting for a moment that he’s in a different country.

His breath is knocked out of him as someone plops in his lap, his equilibrium only a little disturbed as he lifts his head enough to see a grinning Jungmin straddling his legs. All of Koyama’s Korean leaves him and he resorts to waving, which has Jungmin laughing as he covers Koyama’s hands gripping the chains with his own.

Then he rocks his hips, an undeniable grind, and Koyama’s eyes widen at the realization that Jungmin wants to do this _here_. Panicked eyes look around until Jungmin grabs him by both elbows, pulling him up into some semblance of a sitting position and using his weight to swing them as he leans in to kiss Koyama again.

Now sufficiently distracted, Koyama resigns himself to Jungmin’s hot mouth and allows his hands to roam straight into those leather pants. Jungmin is unopposed to this if the moan that dies on Koyama’s tongue is anything to go by, and after a good while of making out and rubbing together Koyama wonders how he’s going to get them unclothed enough to finish this without halting their swinging.

His eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he watches Jungmin lay all the way down, straightening his back on Koyama’s legs that Koyama sticks out to keep from letting Jungmin’s head hit the ground. He watches in awe as Jungmin unfastens his pants, kicks off a shoe, and lifts the corresponding leg to peel the leather away before hoisting himself back up and into Koyama’s mouth.

Disrobing Koyama actually proves to be more complicated, the two of them working together to lift up at the same time and push Koyama’s pants to his knees for some semblance of comfort. By this point they’re both laughing between kisses, Jungmin seizing Koyama’s hand and spreading lube on his fingers, which Koyama manages to wedge between Jungmin’s legs and probe him open.

It feels surreal when they finally unite, swinging back and forth while Jungmin bounces up and down. Koyama watches his face contort in the moonlight and thinks it’s beautiful, gives in to the urge to pull him closer and press his face into Jungmin’s neck, a gesture that’s echoed by the other.

Koyama thinks that he could make it last this time, at least until he feels teeth on his collarbone. His eyes roll back into his head and he loses his momentum, nearly knocking them both off of the swing until Jungmin grabs the chains and takes over. They swing faster, fuck harder and Koyama winces at the pain that doesn’t let up even when he takes Jungmin’s cock in hand to get him off too.

It’s too much and Koyama comes first, tightening his grip on Jungmin until the latter bites down even _more_ and spurts into his hand. They continue to swing, unmoving, not _speaking_ until Jungmin backflips off of Koyama’s lap, shimmies back into his pants, and hunts around for his shoe. He’s chattering away, but Koyama’s not catching any of it.

In a last ditch effort to converse, Koyama tries just using Japanese. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay,” Jungmin replies, and Koyama’s head snaps up because it’s _in Japanese_. “It’s fun watching you try to follow.” He pulls out a card and flicks it towards him. “For when you want to practice your Korean.”

“Thank you,” Koyama says in Korean, gaping at the smirking man before him.

He resolves to study harder.


End file.
